Wondering Why
by RikaandHerPikachu
Summary: Nomura Takuya always wonders why he can't get a girlfriend, so he ponders the possible reasons during his daily life cycle. [A simple, no pairing, Nomura Takuya of St. Rudolph muse story - with a decent amount of manger Mizuki references.]


His dark-brown, short hair with some light parts was messy and his thick-rimmed glasses blended into his hair. Uniform was neat, tidy, brown pant helping to tuck in his pure-white shirt. He straightened his tie and quickly drank down a glass of water, placing it in his sink before he moved and rested his hand on his door. Another day.

He was pushed aside, considered weak, often a pawn in Mizuki's plans – used to be, at least, before Mizuki had a change of heart and considered him a bit more. The only thing protecting him from verbal barrage was his school's nature – he felt that way at least – such the reason that he was proud to wear the emblem of his school on his shirt, no regrets for transferring in. He was vice-captain of a team that had consistently made it into the top eight for Pete's sake! Sure, their run ended early due to Seigaku, and he didn't even get to play Seigaku personally, but being vice-captain was certainly something to be proud of!

Yes, it was something to be confident about. After all, he was one of the strongest! In his mind anyway. Mizuki _was_ going to play him against Tezuka after all.

Despite his seemingly weak nature, he walked powerful steps with a smirk, the smirk he wore every day, on his face, plastered, but naturally and honestly there. This was morning routine for Nomura Takuya, who was anything but weak.

He held a book in his hand, a laminated bookmark sticking out, barely. It was of an idol, one he thought of as rather gorgeous. He was able to make it all on his own, a special one to him, of one of the best pictures he had, this one was.

He sat in his class, his homeroom of 3-2, glasses slipping down slightly. He pushed them up and glanced about, seeing girls happily chatting with other guys in the class. Honestly, those girls, those girls who would be quick to cheer him on at matches, could they even spare a moment to talk to him? It was as if he was a 'gross' person, which made no sense to him. His meek manner was supposed to be cute right? It disguised his smugness, hid away the fact he could size up a girl's figure in just a small look, hide away anything unpleasant. He would smile and they would question, laugh awkwardly, and quickly move away. How annoying.

All he wanted was someone to laugh with. A hand to hold. Sure he wasn't strong like Akazawa or funny like Yanagisawa Shinya. He wasn't particularly mysterious like Mizuki or interesting like Kisarazu. He wasn't cute like Fuji or… normal like Kaneda. Nomura liked to consider himself a healthy mix of all those things though.

He rested his head on his hand. Another day of classes. He'd live. He always did.

Tennis practice went smoothly. Sort of. He had a slip up in dialogue with Fuji Yuuta.

Again.

It was a doubles practice match, Fuji was his partner. Kaneda and Akazawa were partners against them. After the match, which ended in an even matching and a quick criticism by Mizuki. Nomura had glanced to the other club members, then to Yanagisawa and Kisarazu were busying themselves as well.

He turned, about to say something to Fuji about how amazing he was learning the twist spin shot Mizuki taught him, which he did talk about, but…

"That's just what I'd expect from Fuji's younger brother."

"What did I tell you about calling me that, Nomura-senpai?" Fuji had glared, and proceeded to chase the glasses wearing vice-captain around the court, before frowning. "Don't call me that."

"Now, Yuuta-kun, behave yourself. Nomura-kun forgets things sometimes," Mizuki had said, chuckling before looking to Akazawa, giving a nod.

"And that marks the end of practice!" Akazawa said, picking up his racquet and toweling off his face.

And it was a typical end of practice too.

Nomura went to the locker room and changed back into his school uniform, picking up what little things he didn't take to his dorm before practice and made his way back to his dorm.

He opened the door, wondering why girls wouldn't give him the time of day. Was it his looks?

He went to his mirror and looked himself over, slowly moving his hands to his hair, to his glasses. He glanced over his features and frowned. He didn't look awful, no.

Was it his manner?

Kind, gentle looking, but smug and a bit teasing, sizing up the female he looked to. That wasn't _that_ bad, right?

No. It couldn't have been that. He was just being who he was. But that fact that no one accepted that properly. That was… disappointing.

Was it the fact he carried bookmarks of idols?

Everything was appropriate, of course. Why would that be it? It couldn't be. He was just appreciating them.

Nomura looked himself over in the mirror and sighed.

He probably looked suspicious.

Like a creep.

He wasn't the pillar of St. Rudolph like Akazawa.

Or a creative, wild duck like Yanagisawa.

Or a prim and proper manager like Mizuki.

Or a spinning sweet with a twin like Kisarazu.

Or the kind of pouty and cute like Yuuta.

Or... the understanding and willing to follow looking type like Kaneda.

He wasn't them.

He had glasses.

Messy hair, brown eyes, surprised, smug. He was baffled by the matter of not being able to get a girlfriend.

On the matters of actually liking someone, he had rather liked this girl. She was in Yanagisawa and Kisarazu's class. At least, that was what he could pick up. Great features, seemed nice, considerate. He decided to try it on this day. She would… be outside, right? She usually was. That was how he first noticed her, talking to her friends, happily.

Attempt number… oh, it didn't even matter what number it was! It was just another attempt to get a girlfriend.

Every time he would try, get discouraged, and pick himself back up.

Travel, travel, back outdoors, spot her, try, and come back inside, fluster, having said all the wrong words, the awkward phrases. He sat down beside his music player, putting on the music he so enjoyed at a low tone, those feminine voice always perking him up as he so casually sang along. He worked on his homework, finishing up rather quickly and then checked the time. Still time left in the day. He moved over to the mirror, again, the catchy tunes really stuck in his head. Pop songs of idols. Perfection.

He reached out, touching hand to hand with his reflection. He released a small sigh. He wasn't even that discouraged this time. That girl, she had raised an eyebrow at him, called him a "creep," and walked on.

Perhaps the girl didn't get him. That's right. Maybe the only girls that understood him were the ones in his imagination.

Perhaps "nerdy" wasn't cute on guys.

He was sure it was cute on girls.

He looked at his reflection, seeing briefly a female. Thick-framed glasses, smug smile, wavy dark-and-light brown hair that was messy, thrown aside, eyes red, desperate stare. She was singing as well. She looked… _pathetic_, just as the true reflection of himself had looked. …As a female, would he really be _that_ desperate too?

No, _no!_ That couldn't be the case! Red eyes – false! He'd be an idol, like the ones he adored, great fans galore, not limited to just during tennis.

…Why was he seeing, thinking that?

Maybe he really was desperate?

…Or maybe he just needed some water.

He looked a little longer and his vision went blurry. _Clang-clink_ on the floor, he glasses slipped off the bridge of his nose, falling to the ground.

He leaned over and his cold hands scrambled against the floor, careful not to take a step. He didn't want to crush his glasses and have to blindly flail outside and call for Mizuki and Akazawa again.

And as he reached, he thought over and questioned why he was so worried over a girlfriend. He was in _junior_ high. Well, he still wanted a girlfriend, but would he change to get one? _No!_ He couldn't give up his interests, no matter what,

He still wished to feel a hand, warm in his own, heating his palms and causing the drum in his chest to race, faster than when playing a match.

He wanted to laugh, sing alongside a girl. Hold her in his arms and talk to her. Light a smile on his face. He wanted to be in love and have company that would stick alongside him and he-

His thoughts stopped as he grabbed his glasses. He put them back on and looked up, back in the mirror.

He looked, determined, at his face, his features. Stay strong. Proud.

He'd find it eventually. What he was looking for.

And he would live out the similar days until one who cared finally, truly broke the cycle.


End file.
